


A Couple of Losers

by bigspicysenpai



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Intricate Rituals, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23599414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigspicysenpai/pseuds/bigspicysenpai
Summary: Holster and Ransom do a lot of things that most bros don't. They talk about their hockey crushes, make out when drunk( that was one time), and they always spoon after a big loss. After what feels like the biggest loss of their hockey careers, something important comes out... Set during Y3 of the comic.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	A Couple of Losers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirani/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for the delightful @kirani one of my best friends in this fandom and my forever cheer reader. (Except for this one). They love Holsom and wanted new content so here I am to deliver! 
> 
> Title from Trixie Mattel's "Yellow Cloud" (This is basically a songfic with the lyrics hidden in the narrative) 
> 
> An accompanying playlist for while you read: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2QTGJMgcdAtyXdAUsNOLtr?si=daDRIPpGSyCJFk6Qjcrlgw

Ransom and Holster arrived at the Haus, performing a very different walk of shame than the one they were used to doing. They’d just been dismissed from their final game of their senior year. Likely the final game of competitive hockey they’d ever play. Maybe they’d join a beer league near their jobs in Boston, but this was their last game at Faber, Samwell, the NCAA, with this team. 

It had been a demoralizing first round rout. Compared to how far they’d made it the previous two years, it felt bad. One person didn’t make or break a team, but Jack’s absence had certainly had an effect on their numbers. 

They had to stay strong in front of the team, but pretty much everyone was in the same place as them mentally. The residents of the Haus adjourned to their separate rooms, save for Bitty, who was of course making a post game—  _ post season _ comfort dinner for everyone. He was decompressing in his own way too.

Justin and Adam trudged their way up to the attic and collapsed, one after the other onto Adam’s bunk. 

“Well, that sucked,” Adam said, wrapping his arms around Justin’s waist. 

“You can say that again, bro,” Justin let himself get comfortable, they were probably gonna be here a while. 

“I don’t want to think about it anymore.” Adam squeezed himself closer against Justin’s back. 

“Ditto.” 

Ever since they started sharing the attic, their post loss ritual had been to cuddle and spoon until they both felt better. Then it graduated to the go to for breakups, bad days, bad moods, any excuse at all. 

But what was it about losses that made it seem much more intimate between them?. The juxtaposition of bitter tang of defeat, the ability to get in close, share the bottom bunk without feeling like they needed to qualify it. 

Justin didn’t especially like losing, either, but it created the space he needed to shimmy into Adam’s arms, (relatively) guilt-free. They hadn’t really discussed sexuality in any sort of explicit terms. They’d both had dates with girls. They’d both talked about their hockey crushes. He knew about Adam’s obsession with Erik Johnson. Adam knew about his obsession with Alexei Mashkov. Both of them shared an obsession over Oliver Ekman-Larson. D-Men appreciating D-Men. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He appreciated Holster more than the rest though.

Did it feel romantic with him? Did Justin want to risk that? Justin did.

“Holtzy,” 

“Ransy,” 

“I’m thinking about next year…” Justin felt Adam’s arms loosen up slightly. 

“Dude, Bitty and the boys are gonna crush it, for sure.” Adam replied.

“Factual, but not what I was getting at.” Justin flipped over in bed so he was facing Adam. The sunset backlit Holster’s hair, making it look like a great big golden cloud. 

_ Yeah, it’s definitely time to say my piece.  _

“Sorry, go ahead, bro.” 

“Since we’re moving to Boston together, sharing houses again, I think — I’ll miss — this.” Justin stammered out, his courage failing him the longer he spoke. 

Holster crushed him back into a weird laying-down hug. 

“Bro, broheim, brohalla, brohalva, broski,” Adam pressed his face into Justin’s shoulder until Justin could feel the corner of Holster’s glasses jabbing into him. “I’m going to be cuddling you every bad day after work, every bad date, bad meals even. You literally do not have to worry, one bit.” 

“Right, but —” 

“Seperate rooms or no, bro. I’ll tear through the wall, bro.” 

“Holtzy —” Justin said, freeing his arms and framing them around Adam’s face. Adam quieted himself at Justin’s touch. “I don’t want it like that.” 

Adam’s brow furrowed, his face scrunched between Justin’s hands. 

“How do you want it then?” 

“I want to be with — you.” Realization dawned on Holster’s face. “Now stop me if I’m wrong —” 

Holster wormed his way out of Justin’s grip and surged forward, crashing, lips first into Justin’s face. 

“Rans —” He said, peppering Justin’s face with kisses. “I— have — never — wanted — anything — more.” he spoke between breaths. 

“So it’s us then?” Justin laughed, Adam still dive bombing him with the most smooches he’d ever received short of that one great aunt.

“Rans,” Holster said, “It’s always been us.” Holster moved on top of Ransom and moved to start deepening the kiss, when a thundering of footsteps came up the stairs. 

“Hey, Dinner’s ready!” Chowder yelled, throwing their door open.

“Bro!” Holster interjected. 

“We were having a moment, Chowder.”

“Uh, no offense, but are you two ever  _ not _ having a moment?” 

“Point taken,” Holster said. “This was a Bro-ment of Bruh-tmost importance though.” 

Chowder shook his head, leaving the way he came. “Whenever you’re done, dinner.” 

Holster fell back on top of Ransom, pinning him below his chest. “Now where were we?”

Justin reached up to stroke Adam’s cheek. His blonde scruff, scratchy against Justin’s hand. Ransom guided Holster down to his lips, gently, probably the slowest, most tender interaction the two had ever had. The fist bumps, chest bumps, shoulder checks, butt slaps, and bear hugs would definitely continue. However, this singular moment had to be burned into both of their memories. 

Justin wanted to remember the first time that Adam’s lips met his own in this sincere way. This was no longer drunken fumbling at a kegster. This was a new beginning, or perhaps the logical conclusion. It was intense but soft, electric but grounding, hot but refreshing, slimy but satisfying. 

Justin had never been so turned on from just a kiss. He knew that after deciding to be together, they wouldn’t wait long to figure out the home run for their relationship, but he wasn’t sure if tonight was the night. 

Holster paused for breath and Ransom ran his hand over his playoff beard again. Odd that he hadn’t noticed how much he was into it before. Justin smelled the telltale scent of peach and honey wafting up from the kitchen. 

“As fantastic as this is, Holtzbabe.” 

“Yeah, Ransypoo?” Holster’s stomach rumbled. 

“We’ve got each other forever, right?” Justin asked. 

“Absolutely.” Ransom grinned at him. 

“Who knows the next time we'll be able to attend a Bitty pity feast?”

“Possibly never!” Holster shouted, hopping off of the bunk as quickly as he could manage. 

“We’ve gotta strike while the food is hot, Holtzy!” Ransom said, dashing down the stairs ahead of Adam. 

Ransom laughed hearing Holster begin to tear down the stairs after him. 

Moments later they arrived on the first floor to a massive buffet arranged on the Haus counters.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time Bits!” Holster said, enthusiastically. 

“I did my best with what was on hand,” Bitty said, sheepishly. 

“Bro, a build your own mac and cheese bar is not something you just pull out of thin air,” Ransom said. 

“Y’all’ve seen me make pies out of less.” 

Ransom and Holster pressed Bitty into a hug between the two of them. 

“You’re the best, Bits.” Holster said. 

“Seriously, you need a cooking show.” 

“That’d be a dream, honestly.” Eric looked fondly at them both. “Come on you two, it’s not getting any hotter.” 

The buffet was life changing. Haus-made chicken tenders, salmon Bitty must have been marinating overnight, boiled eggs, sriracha aioli, pesto, bacon, green onion, breadcrumbs. Two types of cheese sauce,and a couple of pies. 

“Bits, I’ve got a name for your show, dude,” Holster said, mouth full of spicy chicken mac. “ The Salvage Chef.” 

“Bro, yes!” Ransom said going in on his bowl of salmon bacon pesto. “You just go into people’s kitchens-”

“Room Raiders style,” Holster continued. “And you just show em how to make food with-” 

“Whatever they’ve got on hand!” Ransom finished. 

“I’m a fuckin’ genius.” Holster set his emptied bowl on the table. 

“You’re a fuckin’ genius, Holtz.” Justin leaned over and kissed Adam on the cheek. 

“Did you just?” Bitty asked, incredulously. 

Ransom realized what he’d just done, he froze. He wasn’t ashamed of Holster, not at all. They just hadn’t discussed, literally any of the details of their relationship yet.

Holster’s face was very neutral, despite Ransom looking at him like his hair was on fire. The room was silent, none of the Haus denizens knew what to say.

It was Lardo who finally broke the silence. “FIIIINE!”

Justin was still frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. Adam rose from his seat, completely serene and took out his wallet, adding two dollars to the jar resting atop the fridge. 

“PDA’s only one though,” Chowder argued. 

Holster reclaimed his seat at the table and planted a kiss squarely on Ransom’s lips. Intentional, precise, and commanding. Ransom relaxed immediately into it. His mind drifting to a picket fence and a lawn, Holster mowing the grass with his shirt off… 

They broke apart and Holster got up to refill his bowl of Mac and cheese. Ransom took a drink from his glass, to distract himself from whatever they were about to say. 

“Oh my gosh, how long, y’all?” Bitty asked. He didn’t look surprised. 

Holster set his bowl down with a thud on the kitchen table. “Precisely seventeen minutes, by my watch.” 

“Well congrats, bros,” Lardo said.

“Was there a betting pool for them?” Chowder asked. 

“Nope,” Lardo said, finishing her bowl. “They just shocked me.” 

“Okay, I know I moon over Mashkov way too much for you to think I was straight,” Ransom said, suddenly re-energized by Lardo’s comment.

“Chill, Rans,” Lardo said. “There was no pool because we thought you’d been together since your frog year.” 

“Oh, wait, huh?” Holster said, reentering the conversation. “You saw us separately wheeling at like, every opportunity.” 

“Bro, you think I’d comment on your relationship?” Lardo took a drink. “Y’all both were clearly happy for each other, so the communication was obviously there.” 

“Huh,” Ransom shrugged. “I guess I should have said something sooner.” 

“Shitty even took us aside during our taddy tour and was like, these are the inseparable D-bros. Something something don’t tell them you can tell they’re dating.” Chowder added. 

Holster just started laughing his loud-ass (beautiful) laugh. Justin started to laugh too. 

“Well I guess you guys won in the end, eh?” Bitty said. 

“Eh?” Lardo quirked an eyebrow. “Inheriting words from your beau is a fine, Bits.” Bitty grumbled something, but grudgingly dug out a dollar. 

Ransom finally managed to stop laughing long enough to take out his wallet. He handed Bitty a dollar. 

“Set this in there while you’re up there Bitty.” Ransom said. “Holtzbabe, come here.” 

“Ransypoo, I thought you’d never ask.” 

The two co-captains joined once more in an epic kiss, mingling the flavors of sriracha, seafood, cheese, and pesto. It tasted horrible, but it felt amazing to finally be together. 

They may have lost the playoffs, but they’d won their forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Happy birthday Kirani!


End file.
